


Your scent is my drug (and I'm dying without it)

by AndThenHeGotKnockedUp



Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Alpha Gil Arroyo, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Fluff and Smut, Hand Feeding, Knotting, Knotting Dildos, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mentions of Breeding, Omega Malcolm Bright
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:01:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22792150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndThenHeGotKnockedUp/pseuds/AndThenHeGotKnockedUp
Summary: Malcolm goes into heat a few weeks earlier than expected and, in his hurry to get things in order, neglects to call in sick.Gil comes by to investigate.
Relationships: Gil Arroyo/Malcolm Bright
Comments: 14
Kudos: 172
Collections: Prodigal Son Kink Meme





	Your scent is my drug (and I'm dying without it)

It’s not until he gets back to his loft and finishes off his twizzler stash that it hits him — he’s starving. He’s _never_ starving unless he’s in pre-heat. Then, his body cries out for him to eat, to stock up on calories that will help keep him afloat those first few heavy days when the urge to fuck himself silly often overpowers the need to eat or drink.

Ergo, Malcolm’s heat is most definitely going to hit in the next twelve hours. 

He checks his calendar, thinking that work must have distracted him, but no, his heat isn’t due for another two weeks. His reminder to replenish his supplies won’t go off for a week from now, which means that he’s completely unprepared. His fridge is empty. So is his pantry. He’s even low on bottled water. 

Grateful he has the funds to do so, he puts in for a rush delivery of his usual heat groceries and gets to work pulling out his box of non perishable supplies. His toys are in there, of course, but so are the softest sheets and blankets he owns, a mattress protector, and two different sealed bags of scents to get him through the different waves. Later in his heat, he likes to be surrounded by familial scents. He’ll tuck handkerchiefs imbued with the familiar smells of Ainsley and his mother in and around his nest as it winds down, his frantic whines and moans giving way to contented purrs.

(His nest is the only place he’s ever felt comfortable enough to purr.)

During the first waves of his heat, however, he uses the other bag. Most of the handkerchiefs in there are from various heat services he’s used over the years. It’s always been easier for him to buy alpha scents than to actually invite a strange alpha into his nest, and the best part about the service is the anonymity. None of the alphas whose scents he has know who he is, and the only thing he knows about them is contained to the individual cloths they sent. 

His favorite, however, is the only alpha scent he’s gotten in person. It’s a guilty pleasure, but undeniably the one that helps the most.

It’s Gil’s.

Malcolm feels guilty about it purely for the fact that Gil doesn’t know how he’s using it. When he was younger, both Gil and Jackie gave him their scents to add to his familial pile in an effort to fill the void left by Martin, whose scent Jessica point blank refused to have in her house again. And he genuinely did use them that way. 

At first. 

By the time he was in college, away from everyone, his body started to associate the Arroyos less with family. Jackie’s beta scent was still comforting rather than arousing, so it stayed with Ainsley’s and his mother’s. Gil’s, on the other hand, began to stoke the fire rather than soothe it and was quickly shuffled in with the first handful of alpha scents he ordered through the heat service. Those other scents always faded after a few heats, no matter how he packaged them in between, but Gil and Jackie always sent him new handkerchiefs every few months along with his family’s. Even after he graduated, even when he joined the FBI, even after Jackie became sick — he always got a padded envelope with all four scents.

Jackie’s is faded now, the only thing he can smell of off it being the echoes of her produced by his memory, but Gil’s is fresh. The older man drops them off himself every now and then.

Malcolm always smiles and thanks him and waits until he’s gone to stash them in with the other alpha scents. 

Now, he puts the bags aside as he strips the mattress and gets the protector on. The soft sheets go on next, followed by several blankets. He rolls around in them while he waits for his delivery, scenting them so that they’ll be as familiar as possible by the time he aches to build his nest. 

Malcolm is flushed, his hair wild by the time the courier stops by. He tips the beta man generously for not commenting on it. 

The supplies he ordered are small, pre-prepared foods with minimal packaging, all picked specifically because of how easy they are to open and eat during his heats. Most of them don’t even need to be refrigerated. There are granola and protein bars, apples, pears, and other hand fruits, as well as a tub of mixed nuts. The only things he needs to put in the fridge are the cubed cheese, the cubed melon, and the shredded chicken. He also adds the water, knowing that sometimes the biggest relief was a cold bottle against his face, cold liquid running down his parched throat. 

The last part of the delivery is a handful of pre-prepared meals, one of which he opens right away, his stomach cramping in anticipation of the hearty meat and carbs he needs now. Each one of these meals is more calories than he would typically consume in a day, but experience taught him that he can’t skimp for his heats or he will risk ending up in the hospital, dehydrated and starved. 

He scoops the last of the mashed potatoes into his mouth and lays a hand on his full stomach, eyes drooping as his body gets ready to rest before the first wave kicks in. He falls into bed and groans at how soft the sheets feel against his warming skin. He manages to cuff himself and slips into a nap despite the sudden, annoying feeling of having forgotten something. 

\----------------------

He wakes up wet and writhing, the heat having fully set in, and he’s quick to release the cuffs so that he can slot his fingers into where he’s warm and slick. The ache under his skin isn’t terrible yet. It will take a few hours for the first wave to really kick off, but he knows from experience that taking the edge off early will postpone the desperation.

With slippery fingers, he struggles to pull the bag of alpha scents open. Once he finally manages it, he dumps them on the bed and lays his head down among them.

Gil’s scent sticks out.

He shifts until his nose is right next to that familiar, smoky smell before angling his arm to get his fingers back where he wants them, needs them. He eases himself into his first orgasm with a low sigh.

The next comes a little quicker. He lets his eyes fall shut as he imagines the weight of that hand on his neck, the way the older man says his name. He groans, “ _Gil_ ,” out this time, but it all feels a little hollow. He needs _more_.

The heat in his stomach subsides nevertheless, and so he stumbles to his feet to grab a bottle of water and a granola bar. He rips into the bar right in front of his pantry, naked and tacky with his own slick and cum. The water he sips slowly. He hasn’t really started going yet. His throat will be fine for a few more hours before the moaning and whining really begins. 

He gives himself a cursory wipe down in the bathroom, grabs his favorite starter toy, and falls back into bed to finally build his nest, fluffing and placing the blankets just so, leaving space to curl up in the middle.

For the next three or four hours, he wrings out a few orgasms, takes a break, and repeats the process over and over again, his breaks shortening and the number of orgasms per session increasing as his heat swells. 

Then he pulls out a knotting toy. Now is about the time when his body begins to need a knot to really get off. The orgasms just aren’t satisfying otherwise. 

He teases himself, letting the head of it slip against his already puffy hole. It draws a groan out of him. He does it again. Finally, he grasps the silicone shaft and guides it a few inches in, until he knows it won’t slip out as easily. He leaves it there for a moment and lets himself imagine that it’s a real alpha cock, warm and _thick_ and —

“Gil,” he groans as he nudges the toy a little deeper. “Gil, _please_.”

He imagines the older man chuckling and telling him how beautiful he looks writhing beneath him. His back arches.

( _So good for me, Malcolm, so tight._ )

The toy sinks in another few inches, and with one last push, the fake knot sits heavy against his rim. He won’t tie with it until he’s ready, but the presence of it forces a loud whine out through his clenched teeth. He wonders if Gil would tease him. Would he fuck into him with his growing knot or would he hold back until he was fully swollen and give it to him all at once?

He grips the dildo by the knot, eases it out, revelling in the slick drag of the silicone along his passage, and then thrusts it right back in with a yelp.

( _You make such sweet noises, city boy. Don’t hold back on me._ )

Malcolm scrambles for Gil’s handkerchief with his free hand and clutches it to his nose as he picks up the pace. 

( _Gonna knot you, fuck you full._ )

He lets the knot press against his rim more and more with every thrust, each touch making him whimper.

( _Gonna_ breed _you._ )

The knot slips in, sudden and filling, and he writhes as he wails the older man’s name, his ass clenching around the silicone and his cock twitching against his stomach. He breathes deeply, slowly, the post knotting haze settling over him. 

Until there’s a loud slam over in the direction of the door.

Malcolm hastily pushes himself up into a sitting position, a startled moan escaping him as the dildo shifts. He doesn’t have a weapon near his bed, but if he can get to his collection, he’ll be okay. Or at least he hopes. If an alpha has broken in, they might be more aggressive once they catch a whiff of him. Maybe they already have — his lock should have held.

He limps away from the bed towards the entrance.

Only to be faced with the object of his heat fantasies, gun out and raised, his pupils dilated as he takes a deep breath. 

Malcolm’s gaze drifts down until to the bulge in the older man’s pants. He whines and licks his lips. 

“Kid,” Gil says gruffly, “you can’t do that.” He holsters his gun but doesn’t make a move to leave. 

Following the movement with his eyes, Malcolm swallows. “Why are you here, Gil?”

“You didn’t show up for work. I thought you were in trouble.”

“I was busy,” he says ruefully.

“Thinking of me?” Gil’s voice is low and raspy, and he takes a tentative step forward. “I heard you. Calling out my name.”

“Gil,” he whimpers, screwing his eyes shut. 

“Just like that.” He takes another step. “You have to tell me what you want, city boy. I won’t take advantage of you.”

“ _God_ , Gil, you can’t. Trust me.” Malcolm’s legs tremble. His dick is filling out again, and he spasms around the dildo in his ass. “I’ve wanted this for a long time.”

With a curse, the older man turns around and heads back for the door, but he doesn’t give Malcolm any time to feel rejected. “Get in bed and present for me,” he orders over his shoulder. He locks the door once again, and, making a detour on the way back, grabs a bottle of water and a prep container from the fridge.

Malcolm is on all fours in the middle of the nest when he gets back. He’s shaking with want. The cherry on top is the toy still lodged in his hole.

Gil groans. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“A little one, I hope,” the younger man teases lightly. 

Setting the water and food on the side table, he kicks off his shoes, sheds his jacket, and climbs onto the bed behind Malcolm. He puts a hand on each cheek and spreads them for a better look at the toy.

“Gil…”

“I can do one of two things for you, kid,” he murmurs. “I can fuck you with your toys, or I can knot you myself.”

Malcolm looks at him over his shoulder, pure want in his eyes. “Your knot, please.”

Letting go of his ass, Gil pushes his pants and underwear down to his knees, just enough to get started. His cock is already swollen, flushed. He grips the base of the toy and gives it a swift tug, hard enough to make the omega gasp as the knot pops free but not hard enough to hurt him. He eases it out the rest of the way. The way Malcolm squirms is worth the wait. “Do me a favor,” he says before going any further.

“Anything,” Malcolm promises.

“Get rid of those other scents.” It’s a request and an order. Although he’s pleased to note that his own handkerchief is not only in among the pile but also the one that smells the most like the omega in front of him, it still doesn’t erase the presence of the other alphas. 

Malcolm sits up to shove them into the plastic bag where they came from.

The Alpha stops him when he tries to present again. “On second thought, lay on your back. I think I want to see your pretty face as I wreck you.” He takes this time to strip down the rest of the way.

The omega lays down and spreads his legs to make room for the older man. It’s the first time he gets an actual look at the dick that will be fucking him, and he groans. “God, Gil, if you don’t get in me _soon_ —”

Settling fully into the nest, Gil kisses him hard and fast. “I was getting there, don’t you worry.” He reaches a hand down to slip two fingers into Malcolm’s hole, coating them in his slick and using it to stroke his dick once, twice before lining himself up.

They both moan as he begins the slow, smooth slide in down to the base. 

Inside, the omega is tight and hot, and Gil grabs the underside of his thighs to haul his legs up into a better position. Then, he begins a steady pace. 

Malcolm, still sensitive from his last orgasm, can’t stop the shaking of his limbs as the sensation builds. “Please.”

“I got you.” The older man thrusts faster, his growing knot starting to catch. He lets go of one leg to reach between them and wrap a hand around the omega’s cock.

And then it’s over quickly, Malcolm gasping his name and grasping at the sheets as he falls over the edge, spasming around Gil, whose hips stutter and twitch as his knot finally swells fully and ties the two of them together. 

“ _Christ_ , Malcolm,” he groans. His hips are still working instinctually, his cock still filling the omega up. 

And Malcolm can feel it, too. He rests a hand on his stomach, almost sure that he’ll swell with how much Gil is giving him. He looks up at the alpha contentedly. 

“It’s a good thing you’re in heat,” the older man says roughly. “If you keep acting like that, you might send me into rut. Help me flip over, kid.”

Malcolm props himself up on his elbows and works with him until Gil is settled against the headboard with the omega on his lap, still tied together. He clings to the older man, curling into him as much as he can in that position and purring lightly.

Gil closes his eyes and breathes deeply. They’ll be stuck together for a good twenty minutes, and depending on Malcolm’s heat, they may not have much time to rest after that. He lifts a hand to the nape of the omega’s neck when he feels kisses along his throat. 

“Too close to the neck?” Malcolm’s voice is muffled against his skin. “I wouldn’t bite without asking, I promise.”

“I know,” the older man says soothingly. “We’ll talk about it once your heat runs its course.” He reaches over for the bottle of water and food he left on the nightstand. He cracks open the water and takes a sip for himself before offering it to the younger man. 

Malcolm downs a third of it, pressing the bottle against his face afterwards. His eyes slide shut as he basks in the cold against his heated skin.

“You should probably eat something. I’ll bring more water in as soon as we can separate.” The container he grabbed from the fridge is filled with cubes of watermelon. Gil picks up a chunk and holds it up to the omega’s mouth. “Open up.”

He does, curling his tongue around the fruit and the fingers that hold it. He sucks the juices off of the digits before letting them go, his eyes coy. 

“You’re insatiable,” the alpha mutters even as he reaches for another cube. 

“Only with you, Gil,” Malcolm says earnestly.

“Oh? And what about all those alpha scents you have?” He’s teasing, but there’s a slight edge of possessiveness that makes the omega smile.

“You’re my first alpha. My _only_ alpha, if you’re open to it.”

Gil feeds him another piece of fruit to stop him from saying another word. “You’re much younger than me, Malcolm,” he says, and he’s serious. “You won’t feel that way forever.”

“I’ve wanted you for a long time,” the younger man counters. “The first time I used your scent to get off was my first heat away from home. It’s been over a decade. I won’t be changing my mind.”

“Even if I leave you behind with a kid?” He settles a hand on the omega’s hip and gently strokes the edge of his stomach with his thumb. 

“Then I’ll have a reminder of you,” Malcolm says simply. “Look, Gil, I want this. You seem to want this. Why can’t we have it?”

He kisses his younger lover then, a slow, deep kiss unlike the kiss they shared earlier. “Maybe we can.”

**Author's Note:**

> Gil totally spends the rest of Malcolm's heat hand feeding him in between orgasms.


End file.
